


The Solo Saga: The Force Awakens

by GothamOracle



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Character Study, Damerey Endgame, F/M, Force Dyad (Star Wars), Movie: Star Wars: The Force Awakens, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:55:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24561169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GothamOracle/pseuds/GothamOracle
Summary: Alone since she was eight years old, Rey the scavenger has always wanted to find her family. A chance meeting with a small droid and a former Stormtrooper bring her face to face with the legendary smuggler, Han Solo. It is a meeting that will turn everything she knows on its head. The Force works in mysterious ways.A retelling of/fix to the sequel trilogy.NOTE: Artwork added to Chapter 2.
Relationships: Finn & Rey (Star Wars), Han Solo & Kylo Ren, Leia Organa/Han Solo, Poe Dameron & Finn, Poe Dameron/Rey, Rey & Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 29
Kudos: 35





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'd like to start this with a few small notes. This is the first of three stories that are me retelling an alternate version of the Sequel Trilogy. As we continue through the story, it will diverge further.
> 
> Some dates have have been changed slightly, for the story. Specifically:  
> Kylo/Ben is now born in 4 ABY  
> Rey is born in 14 ABY  
> The destruction of Luke's Temple was in 21 ABY  
> Rey is left on Jakku at age 8.  
> Rey is 20 when we start the story.
> 
> The story starts during the running from the rathtars, and everything is the same as in the movie before that point!
> 
> Thank you to damerey_knows, my beta reader, to everyone I've bounced ideas off of and shown pieces to. I have been working on this one for a while and I hope you like it! As always, comments and thoughts or theories are always welcome.

The blaster fire ricocheted off the durasteel walls as Han hoofed it down the corridor. Between the Guavian Death Gang and Kanjiklub, this day was not going the way he’d planned! Given his line of work, Han Solo had known that sooner or later his dealings would come back to bite him in the ass. But it happening on the same day that he finally found his ship? Han hated knowing the odds, but these had to be astronomical!   
  
Rounding a corner, Han could hear the footfalls behind him, Chewie and the ball droid. If gang members weren’t bad enough, the rathtars were out of their cages and somewhere on this ship were two kids that desperately didn’t belong here. He had a feeling that the freeing of the rathtars was somehow their doing. He should have thrown them onto an escape pod when he’d had the chance!   
  
Finally reaching a junction, Chewie took up a defensive position while Han tried to get the forever-glitching door control to work. He frantically pressed the button, wishing for something on this rust bucket to work just once, but it didn’t respond. Chewie let out a howl of warning before letting loose a shot from his bowcaster. The droid shook with anxiety as the sounds of footfalls and screams got louder.   
  
Pulling his blaster from its holster, Han stepped in front of the droid and started shooting at the gang members as they rushed down the corridor. They needed a buffer between them and the rathtars and uninvited guests would fit the bill nicely.   
  
He took aim instructing the droid to “See what you can do with this door,” as he started shooting. They needed to get out of here. Han hated abandoning a ship, but the rathtars being free left them no choice. The Falcon wasn’t far. She was in the hanger bay where the tractor beam had pulled her. If they could make it that far and not be eaten, they’d have a chance.   
  
A series of beeps from the droid was the only warning he and Chewie were given before the door slammed shut, cutting them off from that corridor of the ship. It was just in time, not two seconds later they heard the sound of someone pounding on the durasteel, only to have it stop as quickly as it had begun.   
  
The droid’s head swiveled to the side as if he were expecting something, but there was no time to stop for praise, they needed to keep moving. Han and Chewie took off. The droid, catching on, put on a burst of speed and rolled down the corridor behind them. There was no time to waste.   
  
In a moment of amazing timing, Han heard the rathtar behind them and saw the person to his right before he was seen. Right now they only needed to be faster than the person behind them. Han punched him, swinging him around to face the rathtar and let go as they sprinted the last hundred feet to the closed door that blocked the hanger.   
  
“C’mon you damn thing, work…” He hit the control module with his fist trying to get the door to respond, but wasn’t working either. He realized fleetingly that someone had hit the master control switch in the vents, but his attention was shattered a moment later when blasters went off and Chewie let out a howl of pain. Han turned and saw his friend kneeling holding his arm howling about his leg. The pilot grabbed the bowcaster and let off two good shots, taking out the gang members who had hurt his friend.   
  
“You okay?” Han inspected Chewbacca’s injuries, not lowering the bowcaster. Only when Chewie let out an affirmative grunt did he turn and fire at the door.   
  
If this were a different day, Han might still be internally gleeful about the fact that the Falcon was back in his possession. Instead as they rushed through the door and towards the Falcon, Han helping the injured Chewbacca, he wondered if his friend’s observation long ago of their home being a trouble magnet was more truth than hyperbole. As they approached the ship, Han heard the sound of footsteps behind him and turned to find the two kids running after him. Where they’d come from he had no idea, but they were here so he wouldn’t be leaving without them.   
  
Han yelled out instructions and rushed towards the ship, the young man helping Chewie and the girl dealing with the door. He needed to get the Falcon ready to go and that meant calculations. He hadn’t had the chance to do a once over on the old girl before this had happened, but she was the same ship and she’d never let him down before. He’d nearly finished with the calibrations when the girl pushed into the cockpit and sat down in the co-pilot’s seat.   
  
“Hey!” he let out the exclamation but didn’t really have time to focus on it as she started turning dials and flipping switches.   
  
“I’m priming the fuel pump,” she didn’t look up as she spoke and Han didn’t have time to focus on it.   
  
“She doesn’t have a fuel pump,” he frowned, his forehead furrowed with focus as he linked the astrogation points.   
  
This was going to be a tight one. With the door controls locked out the best way out of here in one piece was a jump from inside the ship. Hell, it was the only way. He also knew that when - not if - his wife heard about it, he'd be getting a lecture. But better to be there for the lecture than eaten by his own cargo or killed in his own ship.    
  
He heard Chewie let out a yowl of pain. “You hurt him, I hurt you!” he yelled out the door, the warning fell on deaf ears. He doubted he was even heard over the sound of the engines warming up. He didn’t say anything about the girl in the co-pilot’s seat. Chewie wasn’t going anywhere and it wasn’t like he actually needed the help to fly her, but there wasn’t time to argue.   
  
“Watch the thrust,” he warned as he leaned over the controls, “we’re going out of here at lightspeed.”   
  
The girl’s eyes widened and she turned towards Han. “From inside the hanger? Is that even possible?”   
  
Instead of an answer, Han shot her a roguish grin, but it was interrupted as one of the rathtars attached itself to the invisisteel view screen. Han’s face fell and shouted instructions as he prepared for the jump. Yelling a warning to Chewie and the others in the back, he fired the engines just as the gangs caught up to them and started shooting. Han set the ship for the jump to lightspeed as a blue button on the console started flashing and he remembered the girl saying something about a compressor. With a huff, he pressed it and the hanger bay of the cargo ship sped away.   
  
\-------------   
  
Han didn’t know Unkar Plutt but he wanted to punch him. Anyone who believed that the Falcon needed a fuel pump or a compressor on the ignition line deserved it! The Falcon was a piece of art. Sure, right now the old girl wasn’t in her prime, but she was a flying, shooting work of art and he’d bet her against any ship in the galaxy even as she was right now! Even after ten years, there was no ship that could hold a candle to her.   
  
The hyperspace corridor illuminated the cockpit, throwing a blue light over Han and the girl in Chewie’s seat. There was a familiar tension in the air. At one time it had held a promise of danger and adventure, now it left an uneasy sense of earned paranoia in the former scoundrel. Jumping to hyperspace had bought them time, but probably not much more. There were two options: Either the rathtars would get rid of the Kanjiklub and Guavian Death Gang members or the gangs would abandon the ship and come after him. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d had to outpace these guys, but he wasn’t really looking forward to that particular game of hide and seek. And this wasn’t counting the added complication of the two kids and their ball droid.   
  
He should have shoved them in a pod the moment he discovered them hiding in the maintenance hatch, taken the ship back and left. He and Chewie had their own mission to complete. He’d been skeptical when they’d mentioned needing his help and had gone on alert when they’d mentioned the Resistance, but he hadn’t gotten more details because the Rathtars had started making noise. And now here they were. Han with the knowledge that the First Order was looking for the kids and the droid, Chewie injured and the question of why hanging in the air along with what to do about the gangs.    
  
It was almost silent in the cockpit, the girl didn’t say anything and neither did Han. The only sounds were that of the Falcon herself and the ongoing battle in the lounge where the boy sounded like he was losing to Chewie. That alone would have made Han smirk if the circumstances were different. But they weren’t. Han hated complication but it had proven once again to love him.   
  
He pushed himself out of the pilot’s seat, catching the girl off guard. She scrambled out of her seat behind him, trying to keep up with her shorter legs as Han made his way to the lounge, almost tripping over the ball droid in the process. He grumbled under his breath, shooting it a look before crossing the durasteel floor towards Chewie and the boy.   
  
“How’s he doing?”   
  
“How’s  _ he _ doing? He almost killed me!” the boy exclaimed. He turned toward Han but Chewie lightly hit him in the shoulder which caused the boy to spin around with his hands up. “Which is fine! Absolutely fine!”   
  
“You still have your arms, you’ll live,” Han frowned, looking at his best friend. Chewbacca let out an unhappy growl and Han shook his head. “You did good. Bowcaster’s in the cockpit. You rest.” He put a hand on his friend’s shoulder, relieved that nothing had happened to him. But it wasn’t the only issue they had to deal with right now.   
  
“So, fugitives?” Han turned toward his two extra passengers and pinned them with a stern look. The droid let out a sad whir and hid behind the girl’s legs as she looked at the boy. “You wanna tell me what’s so important about this droid that the First Order is after it?”   
  
“We said we needed your help!” The girl stood a bit taller as she tried to make their case again. They’d tried before, after they realized who Han was, but they hadn’t gotten further than that statement before everything had gone to druk.   
  
“I remember that part,” The former smuggler looked at the droid. It was white and an orange that reminded him of the flight suits the X-wing pilots wore. He’d seen a few droids in his day, and other than some damage that looked came from exposure to sand, he was in good shape. Whoever’s droid this was took pretty good care of it.   
  
“Finn’s with the Resistance,” the girl pointed toward her counterpart, who looked like he wanted the durasteel floor to swallow him up. “He and BB-8 need to get back to their base.”   
  
That didn’t answer the question and the more time spent playing chase the answer was less time Han had to figure out his next move. He’d run into plenty of people over the last few years who said they were Resistance but were frauds. He wasn’t playing this game again. The boy didn’t have the look of one of Leia’s people. He – Finn – looked like he was ready to run and had been trying to keep attention off of himself. Moreover, when he’d found out who Han was his reaction hadn’t been the same as most of the Resistance people Han had met.   
  
Han turned on his heel and started heading back to the cockpit when Finn spoke up for the first time since Chewie had threatened him.   
  
“He’s carrying a map to Luke Skywalker.”   
  
Han froze; his spine stiffened like someone had a blaster pointed at his back. He ran the sentence through his head twice more to be sure. But he wasn’t hearing things, the kid had said Luke Skywalker.   
  
Luke had been missing for thirteen years. Ever since the night everything had fallen apart. The night they’d had to put that plan into action; a plan that had succeeded in its goal but failed so spectacularly in its execution, taking part of Leia and Han’s hearts with it. They had tried to find him more than once but it had always ended the same way: wisps, whispers and rumors. No one had heard from him or seen him in so long that most thought he was dead. Some started wondering if the stories from the last war were real and if the Jedi they’d heard about, the one who had defeated the Empire, was a myth.   
  
But they had a map… Han hadn’t known there’d  _ been _ a map. If someone from the Resistance - which Han still doubted this kid was – had it, then the mission would have come straight from Leia. But intel like this was tricky. People had been claiming they knew where Luke was for years. There was as much a chance of it being real as it being a hoax.   
  
Han knew his wife. He knew how much she missed her brother. It had been years since she’d felt anything solid through that weird twin bond they had. Han knew some days she reached out hoping to get something, anything. But nothing ever came. The most Leia had ever gotten was a feeling that he was alive. Han had figured it was better than the alternative, but he missed Luke too. He wasn’t just his brother-in-law, he’d been Luke’s friend first, and Han would be lying if he said that the thirteen year silence hadn’t hurt. Even with what happened, even with what they’d all lost, he still wanted Luke there. Instead the man had flown off and disappeared.   
  
Chewie let out a worried growl behind him, asking if he was okay. Han turned back around, his course to the cockpit halted. His usually cool exterior had dropped and in its place were memories, worries, the ghost of a friend who he knew was still alive but not here.   
  
“You are the Han Solo who fought with the Rebellion.” The boy’s – Finn’s – voice was quieter this time, as if slightly in awe. Han hadn’t confirmed he was  _ that _ Han Solo, but now the lothcat was out of the bag. He wondered for a moment what these kids really knew about the war, what they knew about the world before the Rebellion had tried to save it. One thing was for sure, the kid definitely realized who he was now _. _ _  
_ _  
_ Han had never wanted to be an old hero. General Han Solo of the Rebellion was a thing of the past. These days his mission was different. Leia was heading the Resistance and Han was on the other side of the game. He was searching: For her; for the Falcon (now found); for whatever information he could get his hands on. Anything that might help flatten Snoke and his people before this cold war turned hot and there was no way out. The Senate might not have seen it, but he, Leia and other people who’d fought in the Rebellion had. None of them  _ wanted _ to see it. It wasn’t what those high and mighty Senators thought, that they were jumping at the shadows of the past. What war vet would  _ want _ to think that a history like theirs could repeat?   
  
The last few years had proven that they’d done the right thing, spreading agents out, getting funding and what information they could. Han pushed those thoughts away, they would inevitably lead back to Snoke and Ben. He didn’t need to rehash that.   
  
“You knew him.” Finn’s voice held a bit more confidence than there had been before and Han realized that the kid must have had at least one history lesson while the girl hadn’t. She was looking at him now a bit in awe, like she’d just realized she was in the presence of someone she thought she’d recognized, but who turned out to be someone greater. Han was many things, a great pilot, a great smuggler – maybe not so much anymore, not that he’d admit it aloud – but no, not great.   
  
Han pressed his lips together for a moment. The memories flooded back and there was nothing he could do to stop them. Whatever was left of his defenses fell as he nodded, feeling the weight of years on his shoulders.   
  
“Yeah, I knew him,” he replied with an almost wistful look. “I knew Luke.”   
  
For a few moments, the only sounds in the lounge came from the Falcon herself as the words seemed to hand in the air.   
  
“You  _ really _ knew him?” the girl, even though she’d clearly known what the droid was carrying still seemed in awe of this fact and Han frowned slightly.   
  
“Technically I  _ know _ him,” Han corrected, snapping out of the memories. He took a few steps forward and looked down at the droid. “You gonna show me or are we going to wait here all day to see if you’re the real deal?”   
  
The droid swiveled his head towards the girl, asking something that Han couldn’t understand. Binary wasn’t one of his languages. He’d always left that to Luke and 3PO back in the day. The girl knelt down, trying to sooth it – him? – or convince him, telling him it was alright. The ball was hesitant but eventually rolled forward, bathing the lounge in a blue light as the map overlaid the air.   
  
Han scanned it, trying to make heads or tails of what he was seeing, but it didn’t make sense. It was a map alright, but something was off about it. It wasn’t situated like normal coordinates. It was a galactic map, that much was clear, but it was… odd. Like this wasn’t a map but some kind of key. The markings around certain hyperspace lanes were guides but he couldn’t make out where it was leading. It was possible that this was the real deal. If Leia had sent this supposed Resistance member out here to find it, then she had faith in it. But that added another complication, because if he could track the Falcon then other people could too… He kept that bit of information to himself for the moment.   
  
“You said you know him? So he is alive?” the girl – he should probably get her name – asked, eyes gazing at the map (or whatever it was) that surrounded them.   
  
Han’s head didn’t move, instead his eyes traced one of the hyperspace routes. “From what I’ve been told, yeah,” he replied, his mind bringing back up the way Luke had looked and the smell of burning flesh that clung to him when he’d stumbled into their home that night. “He was training a new generation of Jedi, but one boy, an apprentice,” he started, already feeling his chest tightening slightly, “he destroyed it all. Luke felt responsible. He walked away from everything.”   
  
“So we use the map and we find him,” Finn seemed confident in that statement and Han wondered if he was just a new recruit and hadn’t seen much action. He seemed to see the world in a bit of black and white. But Leia wouldn’t have picked someone green behind the ears for something this important.   
  
“Maybe,” Han frowned. “It depends. The people who knew him best thought that Luke went off to find answers, to prepare for something. Possibly went to find the first Jedi temple-“   
  
“The Jedi  _ were _ real.” The girl’s voice held an awe to it he hadn’t heard since before Ben went off to the temple. Han wondered what it was like to have that kind of innocence.   
  
“I used to wonder about that myself,” he admitted. “Thought it was crazy. A magical force holding the universe together, light and dark.” The girl seemed to be hanging on his every word like it was a bedtime story. “But after all these years, I know better. It’s real. The Force, the Jedi, all of it. I’ve seen people do things I never thought possible before I met Luke. It’s all true.”   
  
They stood there for a moment, the kids staring at him, the girl’s eyes wide, the boy’s hesitant, but the spell was broken when an alarm started blaring from the cockpit. Han’s head turned sharply and he started rushing out of the lounge, shouting for Chewie to stay put and rest. His co-pilot wouldn’t be any good if he didn’t heal up!   
  
Han dropped into the pilot’s seat and started looking at the mechanical readouts trying to get an idea of what was wrong with the ship. A fuse blew and he reached up to cut the circuits just as the girl rushed in after him.   
  
“Electrical overload,” he pointed at the paneling across the cockpit and she rushed over pulling down the access hatch to get a better look at the circuitry inside. Power was now flowing through the backup system which wasn’t intended for this much voltage. “And there’s a coolant leak, what the hell were you doing before we found you?”   
  
“Outrunning the First Order,” she shot back, arms wrists deep in wiring. She pulled back as the wiring sparked but it seemed to have jostled something in her brain. She glanced over her shoulder voice slightly raised over the ever whining alarm, “Try transferring the auxiliary power to the-“   
  
“Secondary tanks,” they finished the sentence at the same time and Han’s hands started flying over the controls trying to out-maneuver the power surge that they both knew was coming. It was the first stage in a hyperdrive failure and a hyperdrive failure mid-flight would be a death sentence.   
  
“If the drive blows there will be pieces of us in three different systems,” he murmured as he managed to get the tanks online to take the excess. They needed the cause of the overload and they needed it now! He moved to redirect the flow regulators, hoping that that would fix the issue when something sparked and the alarm went silent.   
  
The sudden silence was not what he’d been expecting and as he slowly turned he saw the girl standing there with a big grin on her face.   
  
“What’d you do?” he asked, trying to parse out what has caused it to stop.   
  
“I bypassed the compressor,” she grinned proudly, holding up the part Plutt had put on the ship so unnecessarily.   
  
Han looked at the component and then at the girl, who was grinning like this was the best thing since five blossom bread.   
  
“Huh,” he mused. Who was this girl? Overriding a compressor while still in mid hyperspace was a risky proposition, even for a compressor that shouldn’t have been on a ship in the first place. You wanted a nice steady pressure in the hyperlanes, removing it could throw off the drive but she’d done it. ‘ _ Not bad, not bad at all. _ ’   
  
Han stood up, pausing as he got to the cockpit’s doorway. “What’s your name, kid?”   
  
She seemed to fluster at that, like she hadn’t been expecting to be asked. “I’m uh… I’m Rey.”   
  
“Rey what?” he asked, turning to look at her over his shoulder.   
  
“Just Rey,” she replied.   
  
Han nodded and headed back out to the lounge, leaving the girl – Rey – scrambling out of the other seat to follow him. She still held the compressor in her hand when they arrived.   
  
“Alright,” Han said finally after checking in on Chewie. “We’re not throwing you in a pod. We’re heading in the right direction for where we need to go.”   
  
“Go?” Finn turned to Rey who shook her head. “You’re taking us back to the Resistance?”   
  
“Are you kidding?” Han asked, looking at him like he was stupid. “If I could find you, then so can everyone else. They know that droid and the two of you are here with me. No. We need to get you on a clean ship. And I know just the person to help. We’ll deal with it in the morning.”   
  
“But we coul-“   
  
Han shot Finn a look that dared him to keep speaking. “I don’t know about you, but I’ve been awake for two days, dealt with Rathtars, two gangs, some fugitive kids and their droid and walked into a mission for the Resistance. I’m going to settle the Falcon in for the night and get some shut eye,” he replied grumpily. “You should too.”   
  
And with that, Han marched back towards the cockpit, ignoring the snarky comment he could almost hear coming from Finn.   
  
A map to Luke. He’d promised that she’d be back one day. He’d told them that he sensed something would be coming but didn’t know what. Han hoped that Luke had found whatever it was he was looking for. Not only because they needed him back, but because once Leia had both parts of this supposed map in her hand, he knew that nothing would stop his wife from using it. Whatever solace or solitude his brother-in-law had found, whatever he’d been training for or learning the last thirteen years, Han hoped Luke was ready. The world now was a whole lot darker than the one he’d left behind.   



	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Han Solo has gotten back his ship, now he just needs to find the other thing he is missing. En-route to Takodana, he tries to piece together how the girl, Rey, fits into this mess he's found himself in the middle of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I have been very nervous about this chapter, but I cannot thank my friends who have betaread this for me! This is the first of several scenes expanding on the story. Han broke my heart quite a bit. Thank you for reading and hope you enjoy!

Han never slept as well as he did aboard his own ship. The hum of engines and vibrations of the durasteel around him were a comforting reminder that he wasn't lost in a memory. Everything from the walls to the tiled ceiling above him were real and for the first time in ten long years, lying in the captain’s bunk of the Millennium Falcon, Han felt like he was home.  
  
At 66 years old, Han wasn’t one for sentimentality, but the Falcon was different. The ship had gotten him and Chewie out of more messes than he could count. It had always been home to them, but somehow, along the way, the corridors had become full of laughter, of arguing, of the sounds of children playing. It was where Han had started the journey from smuggler to rebel to general to husband and father. Where his and Chewie’s friendship first solidified. Where he'd gotten to know Luke. Where he'd first kissed Leia. Where they'd taken trips together as a family, Leia, Ben, and…  
  
Han put his hand to the tile-covered wall, grounding himself in the moment. The corridors of the Falcon were full of memories. The good ones, the bad ones, and the ugly ones. But they were here and in that moment, he felt closer to them than he had in a long time.  
  
Turning to the left, Han’s eyes softened as he ran his hand through a holograph he’d put next to the bed. It was old, taken more than a decade ago for one of Leia’s reelection campaigns. The little girl stuck her tongue out while twelve-year-old Ben laughed, each ignoring the nice clothing they’d been put in for the shoot. A younger Han and Leia looked on in amusement, watching them be kids. It was a scene from a more innocent time, before Ben had been taken to the Temple, before things had fallen apart so completely.  
  
The last thirteen years had been an unending search. Under the guise of his shipping business, he and Chewie had crossed the galaxy looking for her. Leads came and went, but after all this time, not one had panned out. This long into it, something ugly at the back of Han’s mind, something he didn’t want to listen to, nagged him that it all might be fruitless. After thirteen years, what could he possibly hope to find? But the answer was as clear now as it had been on the first day.  
  
With the Falcon back in his possession and never leaving again, one thing had fallen back into place. It was a spark of hope and he’d take it. Luke had promised him and Leia all those years ago she would come back to them. On the days when the doubts started nagging, Han would hold tightly to Luke’s promise, the Force’s promise, and throw the doubts back to the dark recesses where he could ignore them. He would keep looking. One day she would come home.  
  
With one last look at the holograph, Han threw his legs over the side of the bunk. Making his way to the galley, he looked for the caf machine but found nothing. His forehead furrowed as he realized on top of putting a compressor on the hyperdrive, one of the three thieves had more or less gutted the kitchen he’d built for Leia.   
  
Han crossed his arms, eyes narrowing. Honestly, he shouldn’t have expected anything else. The ship had been stolen as a big ‘kark you’ to him and Chewie. They should have searched the Western Reaches more thoroughly. Han didn’t care how the ship had wound up on Jakku, but if he ever saw Ducain, the Irving Boys, or this Unkar Plutt guy again, he would give each of them a taste of his fists. Or he’d let Chewie take his aggression out on them. Han smiled; yeah, his best friend would enjoy that solution.  
  
Opening a cabinet they’d stocked before the rathtar situation had hit the fan, Han grabbed a metal cup and a powder packet. He grimaced as he tore it open and poured the powder into the cup. Chewie might call him a caf snob, but after years of the real stuff, this powder was unappetizing. Once upon a time, the powder packet would have been enough; these days he would only touch the stuff if it were absolutely necessary. Setting the moisture unit to hot, he frowned, watching the two mix under the tap.   
  
Unsatisfying instant caf in his cup, Han made his way from the galley to the lounge, listening to the sounds of the ship. He’d wanted to give the Falcon a full once-over before taking her out, but they hadn’t had the luxury of time. It was on his list to do once they got to Takodana. The kids would be off to Leia and the Resistance, and Han and Chewie could go back to their mission.  
  
The gangs were another thing he had to work out. If they’d survived the rathtars, not only would they be on their tail, they’d be angry as well. Once the ship got to Takodana, he’d have some time to disable the tracker, give the Falcon a once over and figure out their next mo-  
  
Han’s thoughts stopped as he reached the lounge. From just one look, it was clear that something had gone amiss while he slept. The floor’s maintenance hatch was open and Chewie was sitting on the floor, legs crossed with tools around him. The Wookie’s injured arm was still in its sling and he was talking with someone in the hatch. The boy – _Finn,_ Han reminded himself - was still asleep, wrapped in a length of sand-colored fabric with his forehead against the dejarik table, which meant it had to be the girl.  
  
Standing in the durasteel archway, Han took a sip of the instacaf, watching. The girl – _Young woman,_ his wife’s voice corrected in his head – couldn’t be more than 19 or 20. She had a pair of goggles over her eyes and a welding torch in her hand.  
  
Chewie let out an appraising growl and Han could see the gi- he could see Rey shake her head. However, she didn’t look up from the work she was doing, managing to hold the conversation while conducting the delicate work of repairing the… Listening for a moment, his eyes widened. They were repairing the motivator? While the hyperdrive was engaged? Han let out a quiet huff of amusement, this kid was pulling a him!  
  
Normally, Han would have stepped in. He didn’t like just anyone working on his ship. He knew what would happen if the motivator blew: poison gas, the hyperdrive stalling out. Not as instantaneous a death as the compressor issue the night before, but still a hell of a way to go. From where he stood, they seemed pretty far into the repairs. That Chewie hadn’t gotten him up when he’d recognized the problem said something. Han just wasn’t sure what that something was yet. And then there was the kid…  
  
This was the first chance Han had gotten to take a good look at her. She was thin, her hair in three buns stacked at the back of her head, held in place with knots. It looked like something he might have done once upon a time when Leia wasn’t around to help; he never was any good with hair. Her clothing reminded him of the first time he’d laid eyes on Luke: lightweight, light-colored rough fabric, primarily used on desert planets, good for moving in, good for protection from the sun. The difference was, where Luke had looked out of his element on the Falcon, the girl looked like she belonged here. Hell, with the color of her hair and clothes, the goggles over her eyes, for a moment Han thought he was seeing Leia after Hoth.  
  
The blow torch came to life in Rey’s hand and Chewie shielded his eyes with his good arm. The Wookie let out a growl of caution but Rey’s mouth quirked up into a smile. Han had seen the look before, more times than he liked to admit. Without words, the smile said that she knew what she was doing and that Chewie didn’t need to worry. Chewie knew it too; he let out a grunt of skepticism, the same one Han himself had heard thousands of times over the years.  
  
The repairs took another few minutes, and at one point he was almost certain Chewie handed her a bottle of Port in a Storm. It was a fortified, high-octane Pamarthen alcohol that packed so much punch Chewie was one of two people Han knew or had known, who drank it. Han never touched the stuff, but kept a bottle around for use as an emergency solvent. Rey took the bottle and examined it for a moment before grabbing a rag and using it to wipe down the outside of the motivator casing. The alcohol took away the excess oils and dried debris with ease. Once she was done, Rey flipped up her goggles and surveyed the component until she nodded in satisfaction at her work.  
  
Han’s cup was empty by then. Seeing Chewbacca stand to help the young woman out of the maintenance hatch, he finally spoke up. “You’re supposed to be resting.”

Han stepped forward, putting the cup on top of an empty cargo bin, shooting his friend a disapproving look. As he turned, Chewbacca waved off the concern with his hand and a growl. The Wookie didn’t seem surprised and Han realized Chewie had likely known he was there the entire time.   
  
“Yeah?” Han frowned. “And when Malla asks why you’re still injured, I’m gonna tell her you did something stupid.”   
  
Chewbacca frowned, rolling his yellow eyes, but moved away from the opening. It wasn’t the first time one of them had threatened something like this. It usually happened when a plan went horribly wrong. Still, Han could recognize the ridiculousness of him at 66 threatening to rat out the 234-year-old Chewbacca to his wife.   
  
Han took a step towards the open hatch and looked down. Everything below was neat and Rey handed up a small box with the welding tools already inside. Han then reached down, taking her hands and pulled her out. He had been expecting his back to groan at the movement but it didn’t. It occurred to him that the girl didn’t weigh as much as someone her age ought to. The thought flicked quickly to the back of his mind as she dusted herself off and offered a small “Thanks” for the assistance.   
  
“Motivator repairs mid-hyperspace?” he asked with a slightly raised eyebrow. He was impressed but couldn’t sound it, he was still trying to get a read on the girl. He watched Rey grab the toolbox, stowing it back where Chewie must have found it.   
  
“Thought it was better than the alternative,” Rey replied with a small smile.   
  
She was proud of her work, he could see it in her eyes. And he got the feeling she was waiting for something, like she had been after the compressor the night before. The “Hmm, not bad,” he nodded seemed to be enough, the next moment she was beaming and wiping her hands clean with a towel.   
  
Chewbacca had lain back down. He looked positively miserable in the guest bunk he’d claimed, but it would be a few more days before the bacta patches cleared up his injuries. Back in the day, Leia had teased her husband, called him a mother hen, but where Chewie was involved, with his hate of being sidelined and natural Wookie honor, Han would make him rest if he had to tie his best friend down.   
  
Entering the cockpit, Han took note of a blanket that had been thrown haphazardly over the co-pilot seat. It was the only thing out of place. He went through his usual checks of the ship’s systems and course. Everything was in order, which was good, but not what Han normally found after eight hours in hyperspace. Before the Falcon had been stolen, the manifolds and tertiary overflow would have to be recalibrated after a night. It was possible someone had fixed it in the last ten years, but given the state of the Falcon, Han doubted it.   
  
Someone had been monitoring the systems while he’d slept and Han had a pretty good idea who, especially when Rey slipped into the co-pilot’s chair. She wrapped the blanket around her shoulders, a shiver running through her as she did. The chill of space had never bothered Han before, but it was much colder than a desert planet like Jakku. Han hadn’t spent much time there, but what he knew of it wasn’t good. The people who’d fought in the battle had come home describing it as sand and death. P’mara, one of the old pilots, had described a graveyard of ships all falling from the sky and embedding themselves in the sand. Han had been there twice and twice had been enough: once on a job, the second time when they’d been searching. But nothing they’d been looking for had turned up. Now Han wondered what else he might have missed.   
  
He was brought out of his thoughts as his current co-pilot leaned forward, tracing the lines of the hyperspace corridor with her finger against the transparisteel viewport.   
  
“I spent most of the night watching it pass by,” she said quietly, as if feeling Han’s eyes on her. “I’ve never seen anything so beautiful.”   
  
Rey was the part of this whole thing Han couldn’t work out. While she’d done most of the talking the night before, she’d been speaking about Finn, not herself. He could count the things he knew about her on one hand: she’d stolen the Falcon off Jakku, had been trying to get away from the First Order for some reason, she was a pilot, seemed good with ships, and the droid trusted her. That was it.   
  
The cockpit was bathed in the familiar blue light of hyperspace and Han was struck again by how young she looked. Her face was bright with a wonder he’d seen on another little girl in the same seat so long ago.   
  
“So how do you fit into all this?”   
  
The question broke the silence that had fallen over them and Rey’s attention seemed to jar from the wonder just outside the viewport to Han. The widening of her eyes told him that either she had been surprised or she wasn’t sure what to say to the question. The latter was confirmed when she let out an almost-squeak of “Me?”   
  
“Yeah, you. I get your friend. He’s with the Resistance, on a mission.” Except Han still had his doubts. “And I get the droid, he is the mission with that map stored inside. But you… you I don’t get. How do you fit into all this?” Han kept his tone neutral, casual like he wasn’t pushing for information. He’d been in this game for a long time and knew how to play it better than he played Sabacc. He was going to help them, he’d already said as much. But they wouldn’t be getting to the Resistance without some kind of warning being sent ahead. Leia’s forces were taxed enough without adding any surprises.   
  
Han had been expecting her to fly into an explanation, something that would work with the story he was putting together in his head. So far she fit as either the local contact – which would explain why she was running – or the person who’d found the map in the first place. Han didn’t put it past Luke to hide it on another sand planet.   
  
“I don’t.”   
  
Her reply shattered both his scenarios, but the words rang hollow. Han knew there had to be more to her story. Last night when she’d pulled the compressor out, she’d smiled like she’d just won the top prize at the Five Sabers tournament. He thought back to how she seemed to falter whenever he asked her a direct question, like she wasn’t expecting him to pay any attention to her. Either the girl was being modest, trying to pull one over on him or she was selling herself short. Either way, the answer wasn’t good enough.   
  
“The First Order doesn’t make a habit of going after nobodies,” he countered, turning back towards the controls.   
  
“I’m just a scavenger,” she replied. Somehow, she looked younger and more tired as she said it. “I found BB-8 in the desert. He’d been separated from his master during a First Order attack and was waiting for him.”   
  
This was the information Han had been looking for. Finally something solid, something he could use to verify their story with Leia on D’Qar.   
  
“I promised BB-8 I’d help him get back to his base. Finn found us. He said BB-8’s master had been in First Order custody but didn’t make it.” Rey looked down as she said the last words, feeling sympathy for the droid and his lost master, but Han was taking mental notes. Finn wasn’t BB-8’s owner. If it turned out he wasn’t Resistance and the droid’s real owner had been in First Order custody, did he have a spy on his ship or was it something else? “And then suddenly, everyone was after BB-8.”   
  
“So you went with ‘em when the shooting started,” Han surmised, a small smirk playing on his lips.   
  
“Yes,” Rey sounded a bit surprised. “How did you know?”   
  
“Been in that situation too many times to count, kid. Those stories all end the same way: blaster fire, running, and a ship getting the hell outta dodge as fast as it can.” In his experience, they often included double-crosses and rescues, but this story seemed a bit more straightforward. At least he hoped.   
  
“First time I’d ever really flown.”   
  
That caught Han’s attention. “You never piloted before?”   
  
“First time not in a simulator.” She glanced ahead of her at the controls. “They were chasing us, we needed to leave. I saw the controls and suddenly I… I knew what to do. It was like I’d done it before.”   
  
But she hadn’t. Han’s forehead furrowed and again he found himself wondering who the kriff this girl was. The Falcon was a great ship, but if you didn’t know what you were doing she could be difficult to manage. She wasn’t as intuitive as some of the newer ships out there and could be hard to handle without a co-pilot. To hear this girl tell it, not only had she never flown before, she’d just  _ known how _ ? Flight simulators were all well and good, but there was more that went into it, especially when there were fighters on your tail. With a small smile, she reached out and brushed her fingertips against the silver hyperdrive controls. Han watched, eyes momentarily widening at the gesture, but he shook it off.   
  
Silence reigned for some time after that. The sounds of the Falcon and the light from hyperspace were enough to lull anyone into a sense of calm. It could almost make one forget about the dangers that lurked outside. To Han’s surprise, the silence was almost comfortable. It was unusual, given that the person curled up in the co-pilot’s seat was someone he didn’t know; he’d only ever felt this at ease with Chewie or Leia or Luke, hell sometimes even with Lando.   
  
“Nothing like this ever happens on Jakku.” The girl pulled one of her knees up to her chest. Until that point, Han thought Rey had fallen asleep after getting none the night before. Instead, she’d been looking out the side viewport, her head turned away from him. “There’s nothing there of interest. Everyone’s just trying to survive.”   
  
Leia would have called him an old softie, but there was something in the girl’s tone he recognized. Her words held an all-too-familiar acceptance that this was life; survival was what mattered and whatever was driving her, she would survive to see it, no matter what it took. He’d heard it all the time in his youth on Corellia. Han had managed to pull himself out through less than legal means. It hadn’t been easy, but at least Corellia had a civilization on its surface. Jakku was in the middle of nowhere, a literal junkyard of a planet. The only reason to go there was the black market, the rest was sand and wrecks.   
  
No, there had been nothing of interest on Jakku for the First Order, not until the droid had shown up. The same droid that was now on his ship with two kids the First Order had marked as fugitives. Han had too many questions to be comfortable with Finn; beyond the droid, Han hadn’t fully ascertained the reason for him being on the First Order’s list. Rey on the other hand, had no real guile and seemed to have just been in the right place at the wrong time.   
  
He could almost hear Luke saying how there was no such thing as right place, wrong time; there was only the Force guiding where it needed people to be. Han shook his head at the thought. Years ago, he would have waved it off right away. But now… now there were too many things that worried him, too many coincidences. His ship, the map, the kids, the Resistance mission, and something else he couldn’t quite put his finger on.   
  
“The First Order shows up and turns places like that upside down.” Han’s tone had softened, the earlier gruffness gone, replaced with the wisdom of experience. But Jakku was one of those places in the galaxy that was upside down to begin with; a place where the word ‘scavenger’ actually meant you were indentured or a slave.   
  
“Do you think they’ll have left by the time I return? With BB-8 gone, there’d be no reason for them to stay.”   
  
The words caught Han off guard and he turned towards her in disbelief. “Go back? You’re off-planet, you can go anywhere. There are thousands of worlds better than Jakku.”   
  
“I have to.” Her eyes turned down and she seemed almost sad at the prospect.   
  
There was something else Han was missing. There wasn’t anything on Jakku worth going back to. Hell, anyone with sense would be planning what they’d do with the rest of their life now that they were free of that place. He thought for a moment, trying to figure out what would make someone who’d escaped a life like that return. But the answer was all around him.   
  
“Family?” The word was hesitant, Han wondering if he was pushing too much. She didn’t owe him any explanations. He'd gotten what he needed, the rest of her story was her own, but she nodded.   
  
“Not on Jakku. But they’re out there somewhere.”   
  
The way she spoke, Han could tell this was a belief she held onto; the kind of belief that kept one going even in the face of the worst circumstances. It was the same kind of belief that could so easily shatter.   
  
“I was eight. I don’t remember much. But my parents didn’t want to leave and promised they’d be back. One day, they’re going to come for me.”   
  
“Kid…” The hope in her voice was genuinely heartbreaking. Han didn’t know what he was going to say, but he felt he had to say something. How old was she? How long had she been waiting? What kind of a parent would leave their child behind on a planet as horrible as Jakku?   
  
But Han had nothing he could say, no leg he could stand on. In trying to keep them apart, had he and Leia done anything different? It hadn’t been the intention, but in the end, she was gone without a trace. Rey had to be about the same age. He’d often thought about it from Bre’s perspective, how terrified she must have been, how alone she must have felt. He and Leia had spent thirteen years worrying if she was safe, if she was hurt…   
  
She was out there somewhere, Han knew it. If he thought he was connected to the Force at all – which he didn’t – he’d say that he could feel it. If Rey’s parents had left her behind for the same reasons... For a moment Han’s head started whispering the what-ifs he loved pushing away. If they hadn’t sent Ben away. If they had figured out about the connection sooner. If they’d had more time to plan how to keep her safe. If he’d insisted on delivering her himself instead of Greer and Joph. But then Leia would have had to face Ben alone when he’d come with his demand and tried to tear them apart when they didn’t comply.   
  
It took Han a moment to push the thoughts away. He didn’t go down those roads. The what-ifs didn’t help, they hurt and wouldn’t move him and Leia any further towards finding who they were missing. When he refocused, Rey was looking at him, waiting for him to finish saying something he’d barely started. Her hazel eyes held a familiar look in them and he had to turn away. They were too much of a reminder.   
  
“Just keep your options open, kid, it’s a big galaxy out there.” He strung the words together, but to him, they felt empty, lifeless. She nodded all the same, glancing back out the window at the hyperspace corridor, the silence hanging above him like a weight.   
  
The sound of growling followed by cursing from the lounge clued Han that Finn was up and likely trying to do a checkup on Chewie. The kid had managed it yesterday, but that didn’t mean he’d survive today.   
  
“Do me a favor? Make sure your friend doesn’t get hurt?” The words fell into the comfortable, snarky place Han’s conversation usually lived. “I don’t wanna explain to Leia why one of her people came back with his arms missing from their sockets.”   
  
Rey seemed to hold down a chuckle as she agreed, something that surprised him. Laughing at Chewbacca pulling her friend’s arms off? He wondered what they’d been talking about during that repair session he’d walked in on earlier. Whatever it was must have made her unafraid of the Wookie. Not a bad thing, but not what he was expecting.   
  
She left the blanket in the co-pilot’s seat, almost like a flag she was claiming it with. Walking out of the cockpit, she brushed her hand along the durasteel walls. There was something loving and familiar in the gesture. Han wasn’t sure she was aware she was smiling as she did it. There was something about all of this. Moments that felt like they were repeating and Han couldn’t put his finger on why.   
  
He adjusted the overflow again and sat back in his seat. He needed to talk to Chewie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A thousand thanks to dearest-sparksandstars for this commission she did! You can find her on tumblr or on instagram at Berry_Berry.Art!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arriving on Takodana, Han takes Rey, Finn and BB-8 to see an old friend who might be able to help them with their predicament. Rey is taken by things she never knew existed, Finn worries about security and Han gets closer to something he and his wife lost long ago.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a few months and I hope that everyone reading this is doing well.
> 
> This chapter was going to be longer, like 10,000 words long. But one of my betas rightly suggested that I should split it. So we have half this chapter today and half that I'm still working on. Adaptation for the win!
> 
> Hope you enjoy it. Would love to hear your thoughts.
> 
> Also, a piece of artwork has been added to the bottom of chapter 2, done by the fabulously talented dearest-sparksandstars! THANK YOU!!!

Takodana was beautiful. The vista stretched as far as Rey could see through the invisisteel viewport. Bodies of clear blue water; mountains that reached from the ground, brushing against the slightly-clouded sky above; and trees, so many trees. She’d never seen anything like it.   
  
The moment the Falcon touched down Rey rushed down the ramp staring in awe at the flora all around her. She stooped down and ran her fingers over the grass-covered ground; the blades felt soft and inviting. Rey had spent her childhood fantasizing of places beyond Jakku, places she would go with her parents when they came for her. But all these dreams paled in comparison to the landscape before her: Water flowing freely, plants stretching from dirt beds towards a sun that brought life instead of death.   
  
She closed her eyes, enjoying the warmth on her face and the breeze in her hair. Something about this place called to her. It beckoned her to step forward, to become one with the wonders it offered.   
  
Somewhere, at the back of her mind, Rey wondered how this could be fair. How could a place like this exist in the same galaxy as a place of sand, rust and death? Jakku was a place people wound up through trickery, circumstance or bad luck. Very few, chose to be there of their own volition. Life there was about survival. Hope was a full belly and surviving the day without being sold to an off-worlder as a slave or worse.   
  
BB-8 let out a chirp of concern as Rey felt something wet against her cheek. The little droid had followed her off the Falcon and seemed worried about her well-being. Somewhere in all this, tears had started falling from her eyes. Rey quickly wiped them away, not wanting anyone to see. She didn’t understand, she wasn’t sad, in fact quite the opposite. She felt so many things, so many good things it was a bit overwhelming. But wherever they came from, tears were a sign of weakness and the weak didn’t survive.   
  
“You okay, kid?”   
  
Rey startled. She’d been so caught up she hadn’t heard anyone exit the ship. Han’s voice was gruff against the gentle sounds of nature, but it held a twinge of concern. She wondered how long the smuggler had been standing there. She wondered how long  _ she _ had been standing there. It had been as if time had melted away and it was just her and the trees.   
  
“I didn’t know there was this much green in the whole galaxy.”   
  
Han stopped short when he reached her, a steady presence just behind her. At first Rey was glad, her words of wonder must have sounded naïve to someone like him: Han Solo, the legendary smuggler who’d completed the Kessel Run in the 12 parsecs, double crossed the Crimson Dawn and lived to tell the tale. Stories like his were told on Jakku by those passing through, usually inserting themselves somewhere to inflate their own reputation. What would he care for a scavenger’s wonder? But when she turned, he was watching her.   
  
There was a sadness in Han’s eyes, a haunted look Rey didn't understand. She had noticed it over the last two days, in moments he thought no one was looking. The first few times it happened so quickly Rey believed she'd imagined it, but she hadn’t. Something had changed after their second day on the Falcon, she just didn’t know what. She’d thought to ask, but the rules of Jakku had been drilled into her from the time she was eight: You minded your own business or trouble followed. Wasn’t being here with Finn and BB-8, the First Order after them, proof of that? Still, Rey couldn’t help but wonder. The grief on Han’s face often mixed with a hope so deep it almost hurt. It was as if he were seeing something else instead of the nobody in front of him.   
  
Rey turned away, pretending once again not to notice. Whatever was going on inside Han’s mind was his alone and she felt uncomfortable speculating. Instead they stood there for several too-long moments, looking out over the water. The silence was waiting for one of them to break it; she didn’t know what he was waiting for, or what  _ she _ was waiting for. Someone should say something. She was about to, but Han beat her to it.   
  
“You might need this.” His gaze didn’t shift from the water, but when Rey turned she saw he was holding a blaster out for her to take. It was small, made of a silver-colored alloy with black accents. Somehow a blaster in a place like this felt wrong, taking from the away calm nature of everything around them. But it was also a reminder of their mission and everything at stake. It was a simple gesture, but Rey could feel her pride ruffle. Did Han think she needed this to protect herself? That she needed help? Jakku had made her a fighter. She fought every day, to survive, to defend herself and whatever she needed to do here, she’d do it.   
  
“I think I can handle myself,” she replied, a frown touching her lips.   
  
“I know you do. That’s why I’m giving it to you.” Han’s voice had softened, as had his eyes. Worry and concern hidden within them and it surprised Rey. These were emotions she was unused to seeing. Perhaps once or twice from off-worlders, but Jakku wasn’t a place that bred kindness or concern. She was a stranger to this man, and yet in the last four days she’d felt more concern from him and Chewbacca than she had from any adult she’d ever known. Except for her own parents.   
  
She took the blaster and Han seemed to settle a bit. He watched as she got used to the feel of it in her hand; it was heavier than it looked. She closed one eye, figuring out how to aim the thing and Han chuffed in amusement, telling her she had a lot to learn. Silently, Rey agreed with the statement, but not just about this, about many things.   
  
“Rey...” She turned back to Han, lowering the blaster to her side. Her name hung in the air between them. Han had turned back towards the water, hands set deep into his pocket and he took a breath, as if he was preparing for something, something difficult. Rey couldn’t help but wonder what. Han seemed uncomfortable, like here on solid ground he felt awkward and out of his element.   
  
“I've been thinkin' about bringing on some more crew. A second mate. Someone to help out. Someone who can keep up with Chewie and me, who appreciates the Falcon.”   
  
“Are you offering me a job?” She couldn’t hold the excitement from her voice or the confusion from her eyes. Han Solo wanted a nobody from Jakku to work on the  _ Millennium Falcon _ ?!   
  
“I’m  _ thinkin’ _ about it.” His words were gruff but his eyes told a different story. Rey wondered if Han realized what he was offering. He’d just done something no one ever had before. He was asking her to stay. He was offering her a place with them.   
  
Rey had never had a place she belonged before. Jakku didn’t count. She’d seen families on the planet, read about what “home” was like in the few holos she’d managed to find and, of course, there were the few memories she had: A warm room, a yellow door, a stuffed lothcat... She’d imagined what home felt like so many times, but it had never been her reality. For years she’d been kept. She was worth what she could bring in. No one cared if she went out and didn’t come back. There was no choice, no option. She’d had it better than others, but it was servitude, everyone served Unkar. But now, this man who barely knew her was offering her more than he could possibly know.   
  
“Well?”   
  
She wanted to say yes, wanted so badly her heart started hurting. How could she say no? She’d done things the last four days she never thought she could. She’d fled the First Order, stolen and repaired a ship, made friends and bonded with a Wookie who had years of stories but no one new to tell them to. This would mean she could see more of the galaxy, find more green. Jakku could be a memor-   
  
Jakku... Her parents...   
  
Rey stilled. Guilt flooded through her. Had she really forgotten? Even if it was for a moment, how could she? Her whole life she had been waiting for them to come for her. She wanted to remember what it was like to be safe, protected. She wanted to be held in her mother’s arms, to have her father look down at her with care. She wanted to be comforted by the people who were supposed to love her most in the galaxy. She’d wanted it longer than anything else. She’d stayed up nights trying to remember, begging any deity listening to just give her something more, anything more she could hold onto. She’d promised to wait for them. She’d promised…   
  
“If you were, I’d be flattered. But I have to get back,” her reply was somber, serious. The light and enthusiasm had been doused by the reality of what Rey knew she needed to do. “I’ve already been away too long.”   
  
Han seemed surprised, taken aback and Rey realized that he hadn’t expected her to say no. The gruff exterior was gone, replaced with disappointment and something deep that Rey still couldn’t place. She wanted to say it was Han thinking about the help he’d just lost, but it wasn’t; it was something… more. Still, they’d spoken about her family only two nights before. How could she abandon her parents when they were out there somewhere? When they were all she wanted?   
  
“We could help you look for ‘em.”   
  
The words were so quiet that she almost didn’t hear them. There was something in his voice, a gentleness that seemed raw and unsure; the complete opposite of the brash smuggler his reputation purported him to be. The last few days had proven the man had layers, something much deeper to him. But why would he show it to her? Did he even realize it? Looking again, Rey noted he looked tired, like he had been losing sleep. While she appreciated the worry his face held, she knew once Finn and BB-8 were on their way that was it for her. She’d have gotten BB-8 back to his base like she promised and she would go back and keep waiting.   
  
Rey wasn’t certain how long the statement hung in the air. She was about to reply when BB-8 started chirping and she heard the sounds of Finn and Chewbacca exiting the Falcon. Chewbacca let out an impatient growl, reminding them that they needed to get moving. Rey noted that Finn now had a blaster rifle slung around his shoulder. She wondered for a moment where he’d gotten it, the weapon feeling just as out of place here as the one she’d been handed. But they were necessary now. Rey wasn’t just a nobody, she was a fugitive. Finn would be wanted as a Resistance member. After the fight on Jakku and the gang members on Han’s other ship, being armed was a wise precaution. She hoped they didn’t need to use them.   
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~   
  
At Solo’s instructions, Chewbacca had stayed behind with the ship. Finn had tuned out the talk of diagnostics and electrical tests, but as they trekked through the trees Finn wished the Wookie was with them. It wasn’t that Finn liked the guy, in fact he was more than glad to put space between himself and his “patient.” But every few seconds he would hear something from the tree line and clutch at his borrowed rifle more tightly. He might not have been best friends with the Wookie, but Finn knew an extra set of eyes could be the difference between survival and death.   
  
The rifle felt good in his hands. It was familiar and brought back memories of training with the FN-Corp. If the situation had been different, having the weapon on hand would have been a comfort. Instead, it underlined the danger they were in. A few days earlier he had been holding a similar blaster in full Stormtrooper uniform. He could still see everything clearly from the sand, to Slip’s blood, to the fire that reflected in Kylo Ren’s mask as the man looked straight at him.   
  
Shaking his head, Finn slung the rifle over his shoulder. These were thoughts he didn’t have time for. Getting away from the First Order meant he needed to move forward, not look back. Finn had made his choice. From the minute he’d let Poe Dameron out of his cell, he’d known there would be no going back.   
  
Impersonating a Resistance member had earned him credibility with Rey and more importantly, her trust. This hadn’t been the plan. He was supposed to go back with Poe, use the good will to get a ship and go somewhere the First Order couldn’t get him. But Poe’s death had changed things, forcing him to find another way.    
  
Finding Poe’s astromech and Rey may have been a stroke of luck, but they were in over their heads. The gangsters who’d boarded Solo’s freighter had proven it. They had known about him, Rey and the droid. The First Order wanted them and the map to Skywalker. They were watching, waiting, and Finn knew just how far they would go to get what they wanted. He was a rogue Stormtrooper, a traitor and the First Order didn’t suffer traitors to live.   
  
Finn had backed himself into a corner and the only way to get out of it was forward. Forward into the unknown, following a former Rebellion general, who Finn knew didn’t trust him. He had likely sounded paranoid when he cornered Solo and asked if there were any operatives in the area, but this wasn’t a game. Every movement they made was another opportunity to be captured, tortured or worse. Playing Resistance just meant his former squad members would shoot first instead of bringing him in.   
  
And then there was Rey. She had come into this thinking he was what he’d said. She didn’t know he’d been lying, didn’t know that he was running or what he was running from. If he’d told her the truth when they’d met she would have attacked him. But now they were friends on false pretenses. She had been dragged into this because of him. He felt responsible…   
  
Solo led the way down an old dirt path. The way he walked it, Finn realized the smuggler must have done so many times before. The older man hadn’t been forthcoming with information about where they were going or who this friend of his was and it put Finn on edge. Walking into unknown situations had nearly gotten him killed several times in the last few hours. But if this ‘friend’ could get them on a clean ship, that would at least give them a shot.   
  
Just when he was about to ask how much further it would be, a building became visible ahead. It seemed to rise out of the green as they approached. Old and ornate, it reminded Finn of a fortress, something out of antiquity. Thick stone walls tapered with defensible battlements and signal beacons atop the roof to call for aid. It looked ancient, and while Finn doubted Solo’s statement that his friend was millennia old, they certainly lived in an ancient place.   
  
The courtyard of the building was vast. Made of cut stone, the walls were draped in flags from hundreds of worlds. Finn recognized some as worlds under First Order control, but the flags themselves seemed old, some tattered, some were faded and worn. They had likely been here longer than the First Order, but it was just an assumption.   
  
“Maz is a bit of an acquired taste, so let me do the talking.” The smuggler looked back at him and Rey as they approached the entrance. “And whatever you do, don't stare.”   
  
“At what?” He and Rey seemed to have the same thought at the same time and Finn felt his unease grow. Was there something specific they were supposed to avoid? Was there someone in here whose attention they didn’t want to have on them? What you didn’t know was just as likely to kill you as a blaster!   
  
“At any of it.”    
  
It wasn’t a helpful answer but the door opened and Solo took a step over the threshold.   
  
Finn’s senses were on alert the moment he stepped through the entrance. His eyes darted around looking for items of strategic importance. The establishment was full. Members of species Finn had never seen ate, spoke and gambled throughout. The groups seemed not to intermingle and sound mixed with the live music in a cacophony that, although loud, sat as a constant din over the whole establishment. With everyone minding their own business, it seemed a good place to get lost in. For the first time since stepping aboard Solo’s freighter, Finn started feeling a bit more confident, only to have it shattered a moment later when a voice cried out from the center of the room.   
  
“HAN SOLO!”   
  
All activity ceased. Heads turned out of sudden surprise and interest, the musicians stopped playing and the sound of broken glasses echoed off the stone walls. Finn’s hands automatically went for his borrowed rifle, ready to fight, but Solo just let out a sigh, the almost expectant sigh of someone who had gotten caught red-handed.   
  
The smuggler forced a smile, greeting the woman, apparently Maz Kanata herself, with a wave and a “Hey Maz.” The tension in the room cut almost instantly as the woman started moving through the crowd toward them, but Finn was still on edge. He felt Solo push the rifle down with a “Not here, kid” as the patrons went back to what they’d been doing.   
  
As Maz approached them, she looked each of them up and down intently, as if looking for answers in their forms. She was a short woman, orange with wrinkled skin, but the features that stood out to Finn were her eyes. She wore large lenses which made them look larger and must have helped with her sight, but her eyes were old, very old. He was starting to believe Solo’s claims of her running this place for a thousand years.   
  
As the woman spoke to Han, a disapproving frown on her lips, Finn glanced to Rey. He’d hoped to catch her eye, ask her silently if she was okay, but looking he could tell she was fine. She seemed to be in awe of the place. If he were in her position he might be too. The sights, sounds, for someone who had only gotten off that sandpit last week, this was a whole new world, literally. She hadn’t seen anything like this before. For the millionth time the guilt panged, but Finn didn’t have the time to focus on it.   
  
Solo was trying to be casual, but Kanata seemed to see right through it and with a few more words, they were led through the castle to a table in the back. Once seated, Maz called out to someone in a language Finn didn’t recognize and food was brought to the table. Cooked meats, drinks and fruit in bright colors, Finn could see Rey’s eyes widen as their host insisted that they all take something. Rey wasted no time.   
  
“So,” Maz’s eyes trailed over each of them before focusing back on the older smuggler, “I do not hear from you for more than a year then you show up out of nowhere. I assume you need something. Desperately.” There was a ghost of a smile on the older woman’s face. It made Finn wonder if she’d somehow been expecting this. Finn tensed, the food in front of him forgotten as the question dawned on him: Had she heard about BB-8 and their fugitive status already?   
  
Solo started his explanation, an abbreviated one. He glossed over the rathtars and the gangsters and eventually handed the story to BB-8, who, after some reassurance from Rey that they could trust Maz, finally told about his mission, his master and the map he was carrying.   
  
“A map to Skywaker himself? You are right back in the mess.”   
  
Finn noticed Solo tense at the words. Their host seemed far too amused at this revelation for this to be the first time the two had had this conversation. While the bemusement played on Maz’s face, Solo didn’t seem to share the sentiment. Instead, he frowned seriously as he shook his head ‘no.’   
  
“I need you to get this droid back to Leia. She’s waiting for the data. It could change things.”   
  
“He could change things?  _ You _ could change things.” Maz’s voice became more urgent as she put her hand over the smuggler’s. “You’ve taken a back seat in this fight for too long. Things are changing Han.”   
  
The mention of a fight caused the knot in Finn’s stomach to tighten. They hadn’t come here for this. They hadn’t come here to get involved in a fight. They’d come here for a ship to complete a mission, then he could go. He’d be free, safe.   
  
The former trooper half expected Solo to argue. After everything he’d said aboard the Falcon, the captain clearly wasn’t a general anymore. He was a small-time smuggler, acquiring rathtars for gangsters. But Solo didn’t.   
  
“Soon,” the smuggler said firmly. “But this has to happen now. Leia needs this and I’m not going back until I’m done.”   
  
That was too much. The longer they stayed, the sooner they would be captured, tortured or worse.   
  
“We came here for your help,” Finn cut in. He needed to redirect the conversation, get them back on track. He was getting impatient, antsy and he could only keep so much of it out of his voice. But Rey wasn’t done with the topic.   
  
“What fight?” Rey leaned in, tilting her head to the side in curiosity.   
  
There was so much innocence in that question it made Finn uncomfortable, but it caught Maz’s attention. She turned and looked at Rey, eyes heavy with knowledge of a life long-lived. “The  _ only _ fight, child: Against the Dark Side. Through the ages, I've seen evil take many forms. The Sith. The Empire. Today, it is the First Order. Their shadow is spreading across the galaxy. We must face them. Fight them. All of us.”   
  
Finn didn’t need to hear this. He didn’t want to hear this. He tried to ground himself, but the more Maz spoke the higher the anxiety rose.   
  
“There is no fight against the First Order!” he snapped. “Not one we can win.” Under the table, his hand was fisted, shaking. He saw the massacre in the desert before his eyes. He saw his squadmate – his friend – dying in front of him, the innocent people being slaughtered. There could be no fight against power like theirs! “Look around. There's no chance we haven't been recognized already. I bet you the First Order is on their way right-”   
  
Maz Katana’s unsettling stare caused him to cut his words. She stared at him, unblinking and adjusted her lenses.   
  
“What- Solo what is she doing?” he stammered.   
  
The orange woman locked her gaze on him. There was something in the look Finn didn’t like. The woman was small, but in this moment there was something intimidating and dangerous about her. It was something he felt in his gut. Finn edged backwards, almost tipping his chair over as he tried to avoid her. There was nowhere to go as Maz climbed on the table, pushing the dishes out of the way and crawled towards him.   
  
“If you live long enough you see the same eyes in different people.” Her voice was smooth and stead, almost like a hum in his head and Finn felt the breath catch in his throat. “I'm looking at the eyes of a man who wants to run.”   
  
He felt his eyes narrowing dangerously. “You don't know a thing about me. Where I'm from. What I've seen. You don’t know the First Order like I do. They'll slaughter us. We all need to run.”   
  
That moment changed everything; he knew it as soon as the words left his mouth. There was stillness from the table he let the words hang in the air. His mask was off, at least partially. How dare this woman judge him. She had no idea what he’d been through. He’d been taken from his family and raised by the First Order. He’d trained in their facilities, been told that knowing his fellow cadets, being their friends, was a weakness. Troopers had a role, they were the foot soldiers of the First Order, they were meant to go out, fight and die! Anything that stood in the First Order’s way was destroyed! Every. Time.   
  
“You see those two?” Maz pointed to a table behind them, she seemed disinterested, as if she had gotten all the information she’d needed from that one interaction. “They'll trade work for transportation to the Outer Rim. There, you can disappear.”   
  
Finn didn’t like the dismissiveness in Maz’s tone, but he turned his head to look. The men looked rough, dirty and like they wanted no attention at all.   
  
Maz was right. He couldn’t do this. He wasn’t a hero. All he wanted was to get away from what haunted him. He wanted to be free for the first time in his life!   
  
“Finn!”   
  
He turned and saw the confusion in Rey’s face. She didn’t understand. Solo was shaking his head, but Rey’s eyes seemed to plead for an explanation. Instead Finn pleaded with her.   
  
“Come with me.” He couldn’t leave her here. The First Order was after both of them. Leaving now would mean that BB-8 would get back to his base with Maz’s help and they could be free. He was responsible; her being here was his fault. They could find a place where they could be whomever they wanted, where they would never be found!   
  
“What about BB-8? We have to get him back to  _ your _ base!”   
  
He wasn’t Resistance. He wasn’t a freedom fighter. The droid tilted its dome and was watching him, but Finn looked away with a shake of his head. “I can’t.”   
  
He stood, trying to give the rifle back to Solo, but the smuggler just looked at him disappointed. He waved Finn off, telling him to keep it. Finn knew he was going to need it. Out there with people he didn’t know or trust, heading to the Outer Rim, not knowing what he’d find? Having a weapon was smart business. Still… as he walked towards the table, the regret he held was Rey, who he would be leaving on her own in a galaxy she had no experience with.   
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
The scene had confirmed what Han had already suspected: The boy hadn’t been what he claimed. He’d clearly been involved, clearly been scarred from it, but not as one of Leia’s people. And like he’d told the ‘big deal’, women always found out your secrets in the end. Except the look on Rey’s face made Han wish he’d been wrong. He wished he could save her the heartbreak of learning she’d been lied to by the one friend she had. But he couldn’t protect her, not from that.   
  
Rey’s eyes silently begged him to do something, to say something, but Han didn’t. He sat there, staring straight ahead. On some level he’d wanted the boy to prove him wrong, but he’d done the opposite.   
  
Han watched as Rey jumped to her feet, rushing after Finn. She’d try to get answers and Han worried what she’d find. But he couldn’t protect her. The galaxy wasn’t a wonderful place, no matter how much they might want it to be.   
  
"Who’s the girl?"   
  
Han turned to find Maz watching him curiously. She’d readjusted her lenses and leaned in, as if she were expecting him to share a secret. On some level he supposed she was. Maz Kanata was old, wise and had a way of knowing things. Han had been around long enough to know she was Force sensitive. Maz had spent a millennium traveling around the galaxy, seeking out treasures, antiques, allies and secrets, and she wasn’t someone to be trifled with.   
  
“She’s a scavenger,” he replied gruffly. “A kid from Jakku who got caught up in all this by mistake.”   
  
Maz’s ancient eyes watched him as he spoke and Han knew she was reading him. He hated it, always had, he’d even called Luke on it more than a few times over the years. Han never liked the idea he was an open file to anyone. But Maz had a sixth sense that was rarely wrong. She took a sip of her tea, sending a pointed look in his direction.   
  
“You know better, Han. There are no mistakes. A girl who found the Falcon, a boy who is clearly on the run from the First Order and a droid that needs to get back to your wife, all asking you for help?” She paused for a beat letting the words sink in. “Han, if there were a clearer sign it was time for you to go back, I’ve yet to see the Force give one.”   
  
Han pressed his lips together into a frown. Four days ago this conversation would have been an argument. He would have said that he couldn’t go back and Leia knew why. Now, all he wanted was to buy himself more time before this particular part was done.   
  
“It’s not that simple,” he replied. But Maz was having none of it.   
  
“I know you want to find her,” Maz lowered her voice, tone understanding yet urgent. “The search has driven both of you for the last thirteen years. But the Force made you a promise and it doesn’t forget. When the time is right, she will return.”   
  
He said nothing, letting out a huff of air instead. Both he and Leia held tightly to that promise, perhaps tighter than some might consider healthy. That she was gone and the guilt of it being their fault had haunted the couple for years. The promise had been hope in a galaxy that had turned dark so very quickly. After thirteen years, Han was tired of someday. But if someday was today, if someday had been four days ago…   
  
Han didn’t know what he wanted to think. It was possible... There were moments the last few days that felt familiar for no reason. Motions, mannerisms, the way she handled the Falcon. When he and Chewie had sat down to talk it over Han had hesitated to entertain the notion. It had felt like such an impossibility. He’d gotten used to the disappointment, to the search. He’d wished and hoped and waited and now that it was possible, now he faltered. As badly as Han wanted this to be true, if he was wrong the crash would be unimaginably painful. But it all lined up. The ages, the overlaps, the mannerisms, how she looked…   
  
Maz’s hand hit the table and Han’s head snapped up. Behind the lenses, Maz’s eyes had narrowed suspiciously and she was watching him, studying him. He schooled his face, but it was too late. She’d gotten whatever it was she needed.   
  
“Han, that girl,” she leaned in, voice lowering. “You think…”   
  
Han let out a huff of air and pressed his lips together. It was too late. He’d wanted to be sure, or more sure, before finding a way to get Rey to Leia. But keeping a secret from Maz Kanata was a near impossibility.   
  
“I dunno,” he admitted after a few very long moments. “I haven’t even let myself say it aloud. But I’ve got a feeling…”   
  
“The promise,” Maz repeated, “this could be the time. The First Order, the rising darkness, the Falcon. Everything is connected. There are no coincidences.”   
  
“Yeah, it’s  _ all _ destiny,” he frowned, tone turning sharp and bitter. “I’ve seen what destiny does.”   
  
“Han-”   
  
“I’ve seen what happens when you chase after one. I’ve seen the monsters it creates out of good people!” It hurt to think about his son. The boy he used to carry on his shoulders, who was so much like his mother. What he wouldn’t give to fix that, to fix everything. “We tried to keep her safe!”   
  
“You sent her away because you wanted to keep her safe. After everything that went wrong, she may have returned. And as much as you might want to, you cannot keep her out of this,” Maz replied sadly. “This is as much her fight as it is yours.”   
  
“She doesn’t want it,” he countered. “She wants to go back to Jakku. She wants to wait. For her parents.” The uncertainty pulled at him. He didn’t know. He suspected. He had a feeling, but knowing for sure was far different. Still, if she wasn’t their daughter, he feared that Rey would be waiting the rest of her life. But if she was, if Han was right and she  _ was  _ Breha…   
  
“There is no going back,” Maz’s tone was sage-like as her eyes softened. “Either way, the First Order is already after her.”   
  
Both fell silent. The implication of the statement plunged home like a vibroblade. They’d done everything they could to keep her safe. They’d planned and plotted and lost her all in the attempt to keep her safe from him. Now she was in their cross-hairs for completely different reasons. Reasons that so closely mirrored how he’d met Leia it might be comical if it weren’t so dire.   
  
No. The pain, separation and heartache couldn’t have been for nothing. Han’s features hardened into determination. “They’re not getting her.  _ He’s _ not getting her,” he promised.


End file.
